


For Reasons I Can’t Fully Explain

by Carlet



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different Framework Universe (Marvel), Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carlet/pseuds/Carlet
Summary: "Did she want to die? No. But if she had to, she was okay with it." Speculation fic as to what would've happened if May, not Coulson, had been shot in the Framework.





	For Reasons I Can’t Fully Explain

**Author's Note:**

> I started this way back before the end of season 4, and finally got around to finishing this now. Basically speculation as to what would've happened if it had been May been who was shot before leaving the Framework.

_For reasons I can't fully explain, I trust this woman._

 

If they had some time, Melinda May thought she'd take this strange soap carving conspiracy theorist believing man aside and interrogate him for a good hour. Maybe four. But then again, she didn't exactly have an abundance of time on her hands.

 

Trust. What was that, exactly? What did he mean? Who was he? And why did the sight of him case her to act in such a strange manner?

 

Take the Hydra base, for one. "Snap out of it, May!" There had been something so familiar about it, something that instantly jolted her to her core. Nobody's voice had ever affected her like that before. Not even that of any superior she'd ever had. So why this man?

 

And then earlier, when she'd found a gun pointed straight at her head. May had found herself staring down the barrel of a gun more times than she could ever bother to count. She hadn't been scared-she'd known she could eventually fight her way out. But when this Coulson showed up, she'd found her shoulders relaxing in a way that had never happened before. Instead of feeling annoyed that he'd so clearly tried to protect her like she was some poor defenseless soul, she'd let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding. And when she'd followed him out, she'd felt...safe?

 

And then now. She had no idea what had compelled her to leap out and take that bullet. Maybe it was her trying to atone for her lack of action in Bahrain. Maybe she couldn't bear to see another innocent die. Or maybe, and she suspected this to be true, it had something to do with his crazy theory, and that the gut wrenching fear at the sight of seeing him defenseless amongst all those Hydra agents had something to do with how he made her feel.

 

Whatever it was, May was glad she did it.

 

* * *

They were crouched down, having scattered the second Hydra agents showed up. She and that pop tart, Simmons, had pressed themselves against a wall, while Coulson, Mack and Skye hid elsewhere.

 

Shots were fired, and May reloaded her gun, peeking out at the agents milling around below. There were many, but not too many that she knew they couldn’t handle. She had, of course, trained dozens of agents, who’d gone around to train more. In other words, she knew all their tricks and how to beat them.

 

And then Skye was quaking the pit, everyone looking down in amazement as it revealed the exit May hadn’t exactly, 100 percent, believed in. But it was there. An exit to the “real world,” as they’d claimed.

 

If this was a prison, so to speak, then technically the “real world” would be better…right? Would she have made the right choice there? Was there anyone left who she loved?

 

For a brief, wonderful moment, May allowed herself to imagine what that world was like. What her life _here_ would’ve been like had she made the right call in Bahrain. Maybe Andrew would still be alive, instead of murdered during a panic filled riot, one of many that had occurred after the Cambridge incident. Maybe she wouldn’t go home to an empty apartment each night, doomed sleep alone for the rest of her days. Did she have kids? She’d always pictured herself raising a daughter, someone she could train or spar and practice tai chi with.

 

Before her thoughts could ramble too far, she shut them down, much like she’d done seconds after her mind wandered late a night, as she stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Dreams were for the weak, a luxury she could never afford.

 

May heard a shout of surprise as Coulson ran out towards the glorified pit of lava, shots firing out all around him. Damnit, they were bound to hit him at any moment. Maybe it was because she couldn't stand to see someone so innocent and defenseless amidst a sea of Hydra robots, but May found herself tensing, her heart rate quickening in a way it never did, not even when she was clearly outnumbered.

 

Coulson ducked and somehow missed a shot aimed straight for his head, and May's fists clenched involuntary. A second later May heard a gasp beside her, and she turned to look in Simmons's direction. An agent was quietly creeping out, his gun pointed at Coulson's back.

 

"Coulson's going to die!" Simmons cried, her face full of anguish. She looked helplessly at May.

 

"Not on my watch." May reached down her side for her gun, flipped off the safety and sprinted out. She vaulted off a box and flipped upside down through the air as she pulled the trigger repeatedly.

 

Two shots rang out within a half second of each other.

 

One bullet whizzed through the air, piercing the agent's heart. He collapsed immediately, no longer a threat.

 

And the second embedded itself neatly in May's side as she landed, shoved Coulson aside roughly and took the bullet meant for him.

 

Pain. Horrible, fiery pain immediately spread as she fell sideways. It consumed and clawed at all of her senses, until she could no longer even think, until she could barely remember her own name. Strange images filled her mind, comforting and familiar yet unknown all the same. She was momentarily surprised at her soft landing, confused as to why she hadn't hit the ground as she'd expected. It took her a long second to realize he'd caught her as she fell, cradling her and lowering her slowly down to the ground.

 

Coulson's face floated above hers, a mask of desperation, fear and worry. His arm came up to support her head."May!" He quickly shrugged off his jacket and balled it up, pressing it down to her side, cursing when it came back soaked in blood within seconds. Soaked in her blood. "Why would you do that?"

 

_Because you were going to die, idiot._

 

All was quiet now. All the Hydra agents had died. And soon enough, ironically enough, so would she.

 

"May, hang on. Stay with me." He took her hand and clasped it desperately. "We're going to get you help. I promise everything will be fine."

 

But she'd been shot at enough to know when it was too late. She'd dug enough bullets out of herself and her ex fellow agents to know when someone was beyond help. And unfortunately, she was.

 

Her chest rapidly rose and fell as she struggled and failed to take in adequate breaths; she didn't need to be a doctor to know that her lungs were probably filling with blood, stopping her from taking the last of her numbered breaths.

 

"May! May!" He said desperately. "You have to stay awake. Listen to my voice. Stay with me, _please."_

 

Rapid footsteps told her another person was approaching; Coulson's blood soaked jacket was thrown aside in favor of a different garment. "She's bleeding out too fast." Simmons said. She cursed loudly. "If only we had some sort of clotting agent..."

 

The tiredness was growing more overwhelming, overshadowing the fire in her body; by her count she had minutes left. She'd never make it. She didn't have the fight anymore.

 

Melinda May had envisioned her death enough times. She'd come close more than she could count. Of course, she'd never actually imagined it would happen. After a certain point, she'd come to think that she was invincible, in a sense.

 

Was she supposed to panic? She'd been trained since her start as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D...no, Hydra (where had _that_ come from?), to always stay calm. She was personally known for her stoic personality, yet it still surprised her that she felt nothing at the prospect of death.

 

"MAY!" It was Daisy...wait. Skye. It was Skye. "No!"

 

 _It's okay._ May would've said if she could speak. She tried to squeeze the hand in hers, to try and let him know that it would be fine, yet her body refused to obey. Why was she trying to comfort him? She barely knew him. _She_ was the one dying, but she was still trying to make him feel better.

 

"We can't wait any longer." Another female voice said. Simmons. "We have to get her through. It might be the only way to save her."

 

"But if we die in here..."

 

"That's not going to happen." Coulson's voice said roughly. "May's not dying." He shook her. It was probably meant to be jarring, but it felt more like a gentle nudge. "You hear me?!"

 

Amidst a sea of protests, May found her eyes slipping closed, her head falling to the side. Their voices grew softer until they were nothing more than a dull roar.

 

_For reasons I can't fully explain, I trust this woman._

 

He'd trusted her. That was more than she could say for anyone for a long time. And so that was enough for her.

 

Did she want to die? No. But if she had to, she was okay with it.

 

This felt right.

 

* * *

 

She wasn't moving.  
****

"May!" Coulson shook her over and over, but her eyes remained closed, and her head lolled to the side.

 

The level of fear and guilt rising inside him didn't make sense considering he'd known this woman for what, a day? But after his encounter with Daisy in the car, he'd learned to stop questioning.

 

 _May._ He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it until now. With a jolt, Coulson remembered how he'd pored over the calendar for so long, fixated on the month of May. He thought it had something to do with that car, something he'd wanted to own for so long. But it hadn't been the car. It had been _her._ Whoever she was in the real world, she clearly meant a lot to him. _Everything,_ even. And unless she was a self sacrificing hero or had a death wish, she clearly felt the same on some level. This small yet undoubtedly tough agent lying in his arms, completely and totally unresponsive.

 

And now she was...

 

No, he could't afford to think like that. "What do we do?" The two younger women stared helplessly at him, almost as if they were expecting orders from him. But he just looked back at them, and then down at May's unconscious form.

 

Simmons reached down and pressed a finger to the side of May's neck, her face screwed up with concentration. "She's still alive. I can feel a pulse. It's fluttery but it's there. She doesn't have much time left, though."

 

"We have to get her through." Daisy argued again. "Technically if she leaves before...you know, she'll be fine. But if she dies here she'll die in the real world too."

 

"Then what are we waiting for?" Coulson shifted his grip so that he kept one hand supporting her head while the other lifted up her knees. He stood up on shaky legs.

 

Daisy met his eyes with a nod; she extended her hand and blasted the pit with a quake. "Go!"

 

Simmons stood next to Daisy, unmoving. Part of him wanted to protest, to insist that the two of them and Mack join him. But one look at the unmoving woman in his arms, and the blood that coated his hands and clothes, and he simply nodded, falling forward into the pit, holding May as close as he could.

 

* * *

 

_Gasp!_

 

Coulson opened his eyes to find himself in some sort of bunker type room, his body strapped down to standing gurney. Removing the wires, he slid down shakily and looked around. May, Fitz, Mack and Aida were strapped to similar contraptions.

 

_May._

 

Although he wanted nothing more than to slit Aida’s throat and end the nightmare, he immediately fixated upon May, taking in her still form. He glanced at the screen displaying her vitals. Her heartbeat remained strong. Coulson looked at her closed eyes again; if he’d traveled through the exit along with her, why wasn’t she awake?

 

The answer was obvious, of course; Daisy had said death in the Framework carried over to the real world. Which could only mean one thing.

 

Despite her beating heart, despite the way her chest still rose and fell with each breath, he’d been too late. The bullet she’d taken for him back in that digital deathtrap of a prison had been fatal.

 

For a moment, the idea that May was gone, unreachable to him forever despite the way she still physically stood before him was utterly ridiculous. It was widely known, of course, that being a SHIELD agent was as dangerous as could be. Death literally could be found around the corner, ready to strike if you were unfortunate or just plain unskilled. And yet May had survived all of that, survived enemy agents, Hydra, missions into missile filled hostile territories, the hell that was Bahrain, and so many more. He’d honestly believed she would outlive him by at least decades.

 

And yet a simple bullet in a world that technically did not exist had ended her life just like that.

 

He watched May’s heartbeat monitor, wondering with every beat if this would be her last. Her eyes moved rapidly below her eyelids; what was she experiencing? Was she in pain? He’d surely disappeared instantly from the Framework’s world, Daisy and Jemma likely not far behind. Was she alone as she bled out on the cold warehouse floor, completely terrified?

 

She’d never even known who he truly was, what they’d meant to each other. And now she’d die as Melinda May, but not the _real_ May. Not the one who’d fought by his side, the one who’d clawed fiercely back into the light after Bahrain, the one who he’d trusted and loved for most of his life.

 

Despite himself, a shaky sob made its way up, threatening to unleash itself. Coulson swallowed hard, hoping to quell it. He had to remain alert, in case anyone came barreling through that door or Aida popped out of the Framework. May was gone, but he’d be damned if he let anyone go near her body.

 

Her body. Her dead, soon to be forever cold, rotting in the earth, now useless body.

 

_And it’s all my fault._

 

“It’s all my fault.” He said again, except this time aloud. “I tried to find you, May. Clearly not as hard as I should’ve, but, well I got kidnapped and placed in here too. So you can’t exactly blame me. Except of course you clearly can.”

 

“I bet you never thought it’d be me, huh?” He continued. “Out of all the ways you imagined you’d go, and I know you did because we used to spend time talking about it at the Academy, I bet you never thought it’d be me. Or maybe you did, because you used to spend so much time covering my ass.”

 

“And the worst part was? If I’d opened my eyes a bit, if I hadn’t been so blinded by your double, I would’ve immediately seen the truth.” Never mind the fact that the rest of their team—Daisy, Fitz, Simmons, Mack hadn’t noticed. But they had a good reason; they hadn’t known her for decades like he had. “I would’ve known you were gone, and none of this would’ve happened.”

 

Her face remained still as he spoke. Never again would she shoot him an annoyed glare or a weary glance. Never again would he have the pleasure of trying to decipher her many irritated looks, which, quite frankly, would’ve all looked eerily similar if he hadn’t known her for decades.

 

That thought caused him to turn around, the idea causing his chest to wrench painfully. Something prickled behind his eyes.

 

“You know, we never did get that drink. Not the one we talked about all those years ago, and certainly not the Haig. Although, I guess, technically we did. Only you weren’t even there. God. Melinda, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known the LMD wasn’t you. You’ve saved my life so many times, and I didn’t even know you weren’t there, that you were hurt, that you were in danger. You mean everything to me.”

 

He paused for a moment. The words didn’t feel right. “No, that’s not what I meant. Look at that, you can’t hear me and I can’t even be honest with you.” By now, tears had started to pool, and he couldn’t do anything to stop them. “The truth is…I love you. And I am so sorry you’ll never know.”

 

Suddenly, there was a gasp, and Coulson whirled around to see May’s eyes fly open, her legs immediately crumpling beneath her from weeks of un-use. Despite his own fatigue, he flew towards her with speed he didn’t even know he possessed and caught her before she fell, his arm holding her up.

 

“May!”

 

Her head fell back as she winced, her eyes re-adjusting to the light. "Where the hell am I?" She groused, squinting around the room.

 

"Don't know." He couldn't help but grin stupidly up at her, thankful her gaze was elsewhere, lest she complain about him being a cheesy dork. "You had me scared for a moment there."

 

"Did you think a bullet would stop me?" Her voice was a bit raspy, but her face broke out in a small smile as she looked down at him.

 

Coulson began untangling the wires tying her to the gurney, and without a second thought, scooped her up into his arms. He couldn't help but press his face against her neck for a moment, hoping she wouldn't notice.

 

She was here. Weakened, malnourished and fatigued, yet here. Alive. If they got out of this unscathed, he'd never ask for anything again.

 

"A bullet that you took for me." He said as he gently set her down, and then sat down himself. His aching muscles practically cried with relief as he did so.

 

Melinda scoffed. ”Someone had to save your ass. Again." She blinked, tilting her chin up at Mack and Fitz’s still peacefully unconscious forms. “We the only ones?”

 

Phil nodded. The simple movement caused a wave of dizziness to crash through him, and he clenched his teeth, willing his body to go back to normal. He snuck a glance at Melinda, who’d leaned her head wearily against the base of the standing gurney, her eyes half closed. God. He’d been there for, what, days, and his (admittedly old) body was already feeling the effects. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her.

 

“I’m sure they’re not far behind.” He said, a bit uncertainly though. The last he remembered, Mack had been hesitant and Fitz still Hydra through and through. Who wasn’t to say they’d never make it back?

 

Speaking of the last thing he remembered…

 

He turned to Melinda, taking care to move his head slowly this time. “What’s the last thing you remember? I-I mean, like…what happened?” Phil quickly added. “To you?”

 

“What do you think? I went over to Radcliffe’s house of horror to escort Aida, and the next thing I knew she shoved a needle in my arm and knocked me out with something. I swear my head still hurts.” She groaned. “Should’ve stayed in that spa,” she added a moment later.

 

Phil didn’t bother to ask her what she meant. “That’s it?”

 

Melinda shrugged. “She hit me in the head a couple more times. Tried to kill me.” She said nonchalantly, as if a killer robot was normal. Although in their line of work, it kind of was. “And then I remember you diving in front of that bullet.”

 

He tried to keep his voice light and innocent. “That’s it?”

 

She shot him an annoyed glare as if to say, _enough with the 20 questions._

 

Suddenly feeling hot, sick, and stupid at the same time, Phil shakily got to his feet and crossed to the room to the supply closet. “If we’re going to make it out of here, we’ve got to find something to help. You’re in no condition to fight and neither am I.”

 

As he rifled through the various bags and crates stacked in the room, he could feel Melinda’s eyes on him. Seeing through the way he knit his shoulders, his tense posture. Although there was (thankfully) no mirror, he just _knew_ she was studying his expression, feeling his awkwardness.

 

So she really didn’t remember. She hadn’t heard a word of his desperate confession moments before popping back into consciousness. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Probably both.

 

On one hand, she clearly didn’t feel the same way he had. How could she, when she’d been with someone like Andrew? Someone who could keep up with the magnificence that was Melinda May?

 

And yet…she’d been the first to bring up the Haig, which, if they were both being honest, stood for more than just a bottle of super rare and super expensive liquor. The desperation with which she’d tried to find him after he, Fitz, and Robbie Reyes had disappeared into the other dimension spoke volumes.

 

Hence the conflicting feelings.

 

“You know,” Melinda began.

 

“Hmm?” He murmured, unzipping a bag only to find it was full of syringes. He tossed that aside on the worktable, continuing in search of actual weapons they could use.

 

“There _is_ something else I remember.”

 

Although she was across the room and her vision likely still a bit blurry like his was, Phil was certain she could see the way his ears immediately reddened. “Yeah? What’s that?”

 

“I agree that I never imagined it’d be you.”

 

 _Huh?_ He paused in his search and turned to look at her; Melinda smiled up at him mysteriously. “Never occurred to me. Bombs, bullets, maybe falling out of a plane. But not you.”

 

The thought hit him like a brick.

 

_Oh. Oh, no._

 

“So, uh…” Phil scratched his head nervously. He was certain his ears were fire-engine red at this point, and they _burned_ like the time Melinda had tried and dramatically failed to make a grilled cheese sandwich. It had taken upwards of five hours for the burnt smell to fully disappear from the kitchen. “You heard what I said, then. Were you awake the whole time?”

 

“Of course you were!” Phil continued, not bothering to wait for a response. “Did you think it was funny? I thought you were dead!” Phil leaned up against the worktable, feeling it press against his back. The pain felt almost good, keeping him grounded.

 

“Please. Like a bullet could stop me.” Melinda waved the thought away. “Plus, it was kind of funny.”

 

He scoffed, although the sight of her grin made it so that he wasn’t entirely mad, just annoyed. How long had it been since he’d seen her smile? Not her LMD, but real her?

 

“Did you mean what you said?” She said simply.

 

He could’ve filtered his response, or taken a second to think about it, to ponder on the ramifications now that he _knew_ she was truly alert. Instead, his response came automatically. “Yes.”

 

Melinda slowly pushed herself up, her face tightening for a moment as her stiff muscles adjusted to the sudden movement. She started across the room, stumbling a little as she found her footing. “Good. Because now I get to do this.”

 

Before he knew what was happening, she’d wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his. His brain turned to absolute mush at the contact, and he froze, his mind flashing back to that night in the library.

 

But this was different. LMD May had been gentle and strong and trusting like the human version, yet he’d sensed a bit of distance too, like something was off. (The reason why was fairly obvious now). Real Melinda, on the other hand, was better than he’d ever imagined, and he responded eagerly, moaning as her tongue explored his, as he pulled her close, as he felt her smile against him.

 

Melinda pulled away for a moment, her face more open and vulnerable than he’d ever seen it. “You mean everything to me too.”

 

And he leaned down to close the distance between them once more. He felt her lean heavily against him, half out of their shared need to be close to the other, to reassure themselves that this was real and that the person was real and the hell of the Framework was behind them, and the other half from fatigue.

 

Behind her, Mack and Fitz were still plugged into the Framework, as was Aida. They’d need to deal with them soon. They’d need to find a way to defeat the evil LMD and save their team. As always, time was running out. The world needed saving. Again.

 

But they’d waited 30 years. The world could wait a few more minutes.

 


End file.
